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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605463">When All We Have Is Each Other (Then We Make Do)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22'>QueenOfNewOrleans22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Aquaphobia, Arguing, Childhood Memories, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:01:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When you take a deadly plunge, you must suffer through the consequences.</p><p>(Sundance is not a stranger to childhood fears, and Butch is no stranger to medical attendance. Or, alternatively, what if the jump had gone a bit differently?)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Longabaugh | Sundance Kid/Robert Parker | Butch Cassidy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When All We Have Is Each Other (Then We Make Do)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That water had been colder than ice. A powerful rush of force, bitter and biting, like needles against skin. When they'd jumped, from a cliff that had provided safety, and a twisted reassurance, to the sharp, freezing water that felt more painful than any knife wound, forcing itself into their mouths and making them choke and cough, ramming into their stomachs and whipping across their faces. Sundance knew very little about swimming, had gathered enough information to know that he needed to kick, but the actual details and just about everything that could save his life left his mind as soon as he fell into the icy depths, panic crawling up his throat, water blurring his vision (and maybe tears, but no devil could force the truth out from him) and he was kicking and flailing, unsure of what he was supposed to do, just knowing that Butch wasn't in his line of sight, that his one tether to his life was no longer there, and barely fifty seconds after they first took this plunge, Butch could feel his legs begin to tire, his arms aching, a need to keep his head above water weakening. </p><p>He couldn't talk. No noise came out when his mouth opened except rough gasps and desperate attempts to get air into his lungs. Sundance could feel himself slipping, and then he went under. </p><p><em>This'll teach you how to swim coward little boy what are you a sissy just swim henry</em> <em> <strong>JUST SWIM </strong></em></p><p>Sundance tried. By god, if such a thing existed, he tried to get back into the land of blazing light, but his legs weren't cooperating and his arms were complaining and ice crept into his lungs, freezing him, a horrific burning sensation. Sundance had been shot and stabbed and felt all sorts of pain, but this was a whole different sensation. He'd felt this before, but back then, he'd been a little boy. A child. A kid. Small and weak. Sundance wanted to swim up, to will his lungs to exhale and inhale, but he couldn't. </p><p>
  <em>Exactly as I thought you're such a baby never amount to anything no good criminal that's what you'll be</em>
</p><p>Darkness crept into his vision. Sundance didn't want to die, but his legs were scraping the bottom and he was still being tossed around in the torrent. Butch was nowhere to be found and somewhere within himself, where panic hadn't quite reached, Sundance hoped he had made it. Safe. Their relationship has always been a unique one, full of bickering and, occasionally, full-blown arguments, but Sundance cared for Butch in a way that went beyond anything he'd ever known. He shouldn't feel this way toward a man, but he did. </p><p>What a way to go. What a way to be remembered. </p><p>Sundance felt his eyes slide shut, his body felt like it was being weighed down by bricks. His lungs were still burning, but oblivion was taking over. Sweet oblivion. </p><p>
  <em>You're no son of mine </em>
</p><p>Warmth, heat, yelling. Sundance felt himself coughing, except he had a feeling that it was more than coughing, and hands, large and reassuring, forcing Sundance onto his side. "Breathe, you goddamn bastard. Scared the shit out of me." A voice in the haze said, rough and hoarse. A hand was on his back, patting it firmly, as breathless gasps, mingled with a wracking cough, shook Sundance's body more than the actual shivers, which became more and more obvious. </p><p>"Kid? Sundance? Can you hear me?" Butch asked, too loud, too close. </p><p>With as much strength as he could muster, Sundance smacked him away. Butch huffed but moved away with a mutter, keeping his hands firmly on the body at his feet. "Ungrateful." Butch said, but there was no heat, no anger, just concern and worry and fear. Was that fear? It was hard to tell, and it wasn't exactly Sundance's first priority to figure it out anyways. </p><p>Butch coughed. "We need to get going, Kid. Just lean on me, alright? I can help you." They were both soaked, cold, hair sticking to their foreheads and clothes sopping, but Butch seemed to have at least some control of himself, and managed to get both himself and Sundance up and walking, or, rather, stumbling, in no time. Sundance was leaning on Butch like a drunk trying to get back to his room, still coughing weakly and blinking to clear his vision. </p><p>
  <em>Coward </em>
</p><p>Yes. Coward, criminal. Sundance would agree to it all if he could just get a moment's peace. His lungs still ached and burned and it was hard to catch his breathe. He was shivering compulsively, teeth grit tightly together to keep from chattering. Butch was practically dragging him along, one arm wrapped around Sundance's back, the other on his arm. His grip was so tight that it would probably bruise but Sundance would allow his friend <em>lover confidante </em>to keep on going without stop. </p><p>At some point, Sundance must've closed his eyes. </p><p>Unceremoniously, he was dropped to the ground. </p><p>"Fucker." Sundance muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. His ribs hurt but did not feel like they were broken, so he wasn't too concerned with them. Rather, he focused on how completely cold he was, and memories of an older gentleman from town who, when Sundance had actually been a kid, had gone out hunting in the wintertime and gotten trapped. The details had been spared but when the man's friends had come out of the woods, dragging behind them on a makeshift sled a man who's goes and fingers were black and rotted, mostly, if not nearly, dead. </p><p>They'd ended up killing him to spare the poor old man the pain. </p><p>It was ridiculous because <em>that </em>was snow and <em>this </em>was water and there was no real danger of hypothermia, but Sundance was too dazed to completely be sure of that. Opening his eyes so he could see what was going on, Sundance instead found, that rather than make a fire, in front of him, Butch was stripping to his undergarments and looked completely fine with it. "Wh-What the hell are y-you doing?" Sundance forced out. They were in some sort of cave, a damp, dark place that smelled like old dogs. How long had they walked? Or, better yet, how long had Sundance been out? It had felt like five minutes at most, but, evidently, he wasn't in his right mind anyway. </p><p>Butch was now naked, shivering so hard that he was practically vibrating. "The wet clothes will only make it worse- and we have no firewood to make a fire, or, you know, much of anything else." He advanced on Sundance, looking grimly determined. "Get away from me!" The Kid twisted away, ignoring the sharp pain that it brought him, and felt Butch grab him firmly by the wrists. "Kid, you will die if you stay in these clothes or at the very least get very sick and I think we both agree that getting sick or being dead would put a big damper on our future plans, hmm?" Butch sounded on the brink of his patience. Sundance narrowed his eyes and tried not to think about how right his friend really was, unwilling to admit that he was wrong. </p><p>"Fine." Sundance relented, and Butch nodded in approval. "One more thing I suppose I should tell 'ya is that we're also gonna need to do a little, what do you call it?" Butch pretended to think as he started in on the jacket and shirt. "Oh, yeah. Sissy things." Butch went for the pants. Sundance frowned even deeper, his mind still trying to catch up with reality. "What a-are you going on about?" He asked, looking behind Butch's shoulder at the opening of this cave-like place. It was almost completely dark. The knowledge that the old man, what was his name? Had died in the darkness didn't escape Sundance's sharp memory. </p><p>Butch smiled, though there was no humor to be found. "Preserve our body heat. Keep ourselves and each other warm, you know?" He stood again and gathered the clothing, laying it all out on the ground to dry overnight. Sundance furrowed his eyebrows, still confused. Butch sighed and splayed his hands at his sides, looking desperate. "I'm about to cuddle you, that's what I'm trying to say. I know what you're about to say, and let me counter it with this- I'm taking no argument from you in this." </p><p>Sundance's first response was to try and kill Butch, but he couldn't find the strength in his legs to stand and he supposed that life for him would get even worse without a somewhat coherent partner. "This is your fault!" Sundance hissed. "If you hadn't gotten the goddamn idea to jump and forced me to go along with it, th-then we wouldn't be here." He must've looked pathetic, naked as the day he was born and wet and shivering, but there was no other alternative to his anger, this bright hot rage that bubbled and rose up within himself. Butch scowled heavily. "Exactly, because we'd be dead! And if you would have just learned how to swim in the first fucking place, then you wouldn't have nearly drowned and forced me to find your sorry ass." And then as soon as his anger appeared, it was gone. Butch's face softened and he shook his head, almost regretfully. "Let's not argue, please, Kid. You're hurt and I'm tired and there's no use in it. Let me just help you, and you can rag on me all you want later." Butch looked, sounded, defeated, and there was a weary gaze in his eyes. Sundance now felt guilty, because Butch had just saved him from drowning, practically carried him for an unknown amount of miles, and here he was, arguing with the poor man. </p><p>"Alright." Sundance said quietly. "I was wrong." It was the closest thing to an apology that anybody could get from him, and Butch knew this, so the smile that stretched across his face was genuine. "Thank you. Let's get some sleep, we'll both need it." Butch walked over, ambled so easily that he seemed so unbothered, and Sundance felt that old familiar feeling of twisted love and deep affection. "I'm right here if you need me." Butch said as he settled down. </p><p>
  <em>You're going to get yourself killed, boy.</em>
</p><p>They occasionally sleep like this. Butch, with his arm around Sundance's torso, pulling him tight. Butch who snored and laughed too loudly and didn't know when to shut up sometimes, who Sundance loved with a passion. And Butch, he knew, felt the same. Butch had reasons for pulling Sundance out, for looking like he'd been crying when Sundance didn't wake up, for carrying him there and protecting him. Maybe they would never get around to saying it, but the love was there, as odd as it was. </p><p>
  <em>I'm okay with that. </em>
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